And So It Begins Again
by E.Madden
Summary: Isabelle Vaughn's life is thrown upside down when she is forced to join the CIA. After joining, she becomes intent on finding her mother who has been missing for several years.
1. The Door

**Disclaimer: I do not own any _Alias _Characters.**

**Full Summary: **Sydney Bristow has been missing for several years. She left behind a husband and two children, Jack and Isabelle. When both her children are thrown into the secret world of the CIA both become determined to find their mother. Unfortunately, both have very different ways of doing it. The Good way and the Bad way. Includes old and new characters.

**Time line: **Period of Isabelle's life from being a young adult to her mid twenties.

**Author's Note: **This is (you could say) my fourth fan fiction story. I am currently writing a _Law and Order: SVU _story at the same time and I apologize if I don't update as frequently as I did my previous _Alias _story, _Family Reunion._ I am very excited about this one and I hope many enjoy it. Please review, I'd greatly appreciate it.

**Chapter One: The Door**

She ran as fast as possible in her heels which was not only incredibly problematic but absolutely painful. She could only imagine the blisters she would find later while showering, if she did indeed make it home. She thought she would. She _hoped _she would.

The alarm continued to ring as red lights flared in every hall and room she passed. It's deep sound was similar to a fire alarm and she wondered how they could differentiate the two. But the alarm was not a warning. It was a notification to everyone in the building that there was an intruder. And to the intruder, the alarm was a threat.

The hallway seemed to be getting longer even though she was running down it. The two men in uniform had turned the corner and were now in the same hallway. They continued to scream "Anschlag", as if that was going to stop her.

Their rampage down the hall ceased and soon she heard gun fire. Bullets flew by her and hit the end of the hallway. She removed a pistol from a pack she carried that was slung around one shoulder. She aimlessly shot down the hallway at the guards knowing that there was a minuscule chance that her shots would puncture either of them. More bullets flew by that were shot by the men but she managed to turn a corner and keep herself out of harm's way. Barely. It'd take them a good forty seconds to reach the hallway she was in now. She hoped she was going the right way.

Her feet continued moving at the fastest pace possible. Her heart was thumping like never before. Sweat beads moved down her forehead. If she didn't make it she'd be dead, there was no doubt about it. She'd be held hostage, tortured, and then most likely killed. Why did she ever choose this? Why did she agree? She pushed her countless questions out of her mind because she knew she could not go back. She could not go back to her regular life of being a college student. After clearing her mind, she found out where she was and knew she had to take the next left. She did so and continued down that hallway.

And then she saw the door. Far ahead down the hallway her exit was closing and there was no knob to open it after it closed. It was her only possible exit. She picked up speed, which she thought was impossible. It must have been the feeling of panic that caused her to accelerate. The door was half way closed and she was not nearly half way down the hall.

The more it closed the more she accepted she would not make it yet she continued praying that she would. She heard the guards coming. The pack around her shoulder was swinging violently, twisting its strap and hitting her hip. Her pistol was still in her hand. In desperation, she fired her gun at the door. Her shots did nothing but bounce off the door. The guards came around the corner. They spotted her and fired. She didn't bother to fire back. Her only intention was to reach that door in time.

When she had made her way to the door she was too late. It closed just as her hands touched it. She wasn't making it home.

**End Note: **So this chapter was basically a Prologue. You will find out who "she" is if you have not already assumed. I'll update as soon as possible!


	2. The Stranger

**Chapter Two: The Stranger**

_**Six Years Ago** _

The world outside flew by her in a blur. A bright blur of dark natural tones and occasionally a bright red or yellow. The greens and grays mixed together beautifully along with the blue sky that was cloudless that day. The weather seemed perfect. The sun was large and shining brightly in the cerulean sky yet it was not humid out what so ever.

The train was almost completely full. She was lucky to have a found a seat with nobody in it. Her bag sat in the seat next to hers. She did not put it there to be rude, though. She just would rather have her bag on a seat than on the floor.

Through the window she saw her reflection. She wore glasses which sat on her completely straight nose. Behind the glasses were a pair of bright, hazel eyes. Her lips were quite full, which is a trait she seemed to get from her mother. She also had dimples when she smiled, another trait she received from her mother. Her face was smooth and oval shaped. Her hair was a light brown, similar to her eyes, and a bit wavy on that particular day. She wore a simple long sleeved blouse with jeans and she did not care much about her sense of style. She was very beautiful but was not noticed much. She rarely went out to parties or bars because of her necessity to study and earn excellent grades.

She turned away from the window, remembering that she had to call and make a hotel reservation. She took her cell phone from her small, one strap backpack and then fished out a hotel card. She dialed the number from the card and then put the phone to her ear. The phone rang only once before being picked up.

"Ahern Hotels, how may I help you?" asked the woman on the other end.

"I'd like to make a reservation for this week, Monday to Friday, one bedroom," she told the woman.

"Let's see... Okay, we have a room, may I have your name please and your number?" asked the woman.

"My name's Isabelle Vaughn. My number is 555-9512."

"Alright, your room will be ready for you when you arrive."

"Thank you." She ended the call and saved the hotel's number under her contacts on her cell phone. She then put it back in her bag and shoved the card in there as well. She turned back outside. She never got motion sickness and never really understood how one could.

"Excuse me," said a voice. Isabelle turned to the isle, assuming that the accented voice was directed at her. She saw a blonde man who looked to be about the age of forty standing with a suitcase. He wore a dark suit and he had on leather shoes. His accent seemed to be British, possibly Scottish. "Is this seat taken?" he asked her.

"No," Isabelle said and she moved her bag willingly and placed it at her feet.

"Thank you," he said to her. "I've been looking for an open seat for almost twenty minutes."

"It's really crowded today. It normally isn't this bad this early," Isabelle noted.

"You take this train frequently?" he asked her.

"Every Monday to the city and Friday back home," she explained.

"You're heading into New York City as well?"

"Yup," Isabelle answered while nodding.

"I normally catch a cab," the Brit explained, "But today I woke up a bit late and decided that the quickest way was to take the train. I just hope I'm not late for work."

"Oh."

He held out his hand. "My name's Julian Sark." She glanced at his hand and then shook it.

"Isabelle Vaughn."

"Isabelle, pretty name. Your parents must have had some creativity."

"I suppose so," she said. "Have I met you before?"

"I don't think so. Why?"

"I don't know. Your name sounds kind of familiar."

"Hm, strange." He threw aside her thought and changed the subject. "So why are you heading to the city?"

"I go to college there."

"Really? What are you studying?"

"I'm hoping to be a pediatrician."

"Like kids?"

"Love them. I had a little brother growing up who I always took care of."

"Really? Parents weren't around?"

"They were some of the time. But then they went away occasionally for long periods of time."

"Ah, I see." The silence between them caused Julian to pull out a newspaper. As he began reading it she turned back to look out the window, watching the world fly by. Julian mentioned different news to her which she had little interest in and she thought he took notice when he stopped talking after reading several articles.

Isabelle did not like his demeanor. He was attractive for an older man, Isabelle wouldn't deny that but he seemed moody deep down and his tone was not comforting at all. Not only was he creepy but he had no personality at all and he bored her easily. She wished she had said the seat was taken. If only she knew that he had such a strange and irritating personality.

After what seemed to be like a three hour train the conductor finally announced that the next stop would be Manhattan. The gray colors of buildings came into the blur now outside the window and soon the train came to a stop and she saw her surroundings. The same surroundings she saw every Monday.

Isabelle followed Julian out. They reached the platform and he took her hand and shook it.

"It was nice meeting you," he said to her.

"Yeah, you too," she said a bit uncomfortably. The two then parted ways and Isabelle hoped she never saw that man again.


	3. Secrets

**Chapter Three: Secrets**

Isabelle tapped the apartment door lightly and stepped back a bit. She waited a while and soon began tapping her foot. When nobody came to the door she knocked harder. The sound echoed slightly down the hall. She waited a while but this time for a shorter period and then knocked a third time as loud as she possibly could.

Soon, the apartment door opened up and there stood a young man in nothing but his boxer shorts. Her rubbed his eyes and then ran his hands through his auburn hair.

"Shit," he muttered as he walked off into the apartment. "What time is it?"

"Time for you to get an alarm," teased Isabelle as she walked into the apartment.

"I'm going to be late, aren't I?" he asked as he entered a different room and Isabelle lost sight of him.

"You'll be fine," she answered. "But you lack of punctuality better not ruin our breakfast date." She sat herself down on his couch. "Aren't lawyers suppose to be punctual?"

"Very funny," he called back. She smiled and looked out the window at the beautiful view of the city. He joined her in the living room with an unbuttoned long sleeve shirt that was a brick color. Underneath was a sleeveless top. He wore a simple pair of jeans. He began buttoning his shirt. He was athletically built. He had hazel green eyes which was one of his first traits Isabelle noticed about him. His hair was bit lengthy and he hadn't shaved in a couple of days.

"So where would you like to go?" he asked her.

"Your hair's a mess," she told him ignoring his question. "You should brush it."

"And since when do I care about what you think I should do with my outward appearance?" he asked her.

"Since I'm the only friend of yours who can take care of herself," she joked. "Except maybe Sarah. She's more cleanly than I am."

"Alright," he said walking into the bathroom for about thirty seconds. He came out with his hair somewhat decent. Isabelle of course did not care what his hair looked like at all. She was not the type of person to tell someone what to do with themselves.

He grabbed his keys. "Let's go." She exited the apartment first and he followed with a briefcase and shut the door behind him.

* * *

Isabelle took a bite of her toast and put it down as she continued reading the essay he had written for his class. He was unsatisfied with the grade he had received. He sat across from her, eating his buttermilk pancakes and gulping down his milk. He had quite an appetite which was expected because of his height. Despite the large amounts of food he ate, he had a great physique and he took care of his body, something he and Isabelle shared in common.

Isabelle ran six miles, five days a week. Three in the morning before breakfast and school and three in the evening. She did not visit the gym as frequently as he did therefore the only time they got to spend with each other while working out was when the two ran in the mornings. He rarely had the time in the evening.

"And I really reread and rewrote this several times," he told her. "I mean, the last paper I wrote was complete bullshit and I got a better grade on that than this one."

She didn't see the problem. It was a B. "Maybe you should just bullshit all your papers," she suggested jokingly. As Isabelle read the paper she did not see anything wrong with it. She finished reading and flipped back to the title page. She first saw his name, Mark Wright. She handed the paper back to Mark. "I don't see why she gave you that grade. Maybe she was P.M.S.ing." She took a bite of her muffin and then sipped her milk.

"Probably," said Mark. "I don't know. I'll talk to her."

She had met him on the subway when she dropped her books after colliding with an incredibly large and rude man. Mark helped her pick them up and the two talked. They exchanged numbers and met up later that week. That was about a year and a half ago, if she remembered right.

"So where is Sarah this fine morning?" asked Mark.

"She's visiting her mom in Albany. She's coming back tomorrow and meeting me at the hotel," explained Isabelle.

"Any luck with finding an apartment for you two?" asked Mark.

"Unfortunately, no. They're all very expensive," Isabelle said. "I made the mistake of telling my father that on the phone and he's attempting to send money down. I won't let him, though."

"You should though, it'd make it easier."

"Yeah but I can't depend on him for the rest of my life. He's loaned too much money to me already."

There was a brief pause between the two as they ate and after Mark took a gulp of his milk he spoke. "Want to go out for dinner tonight?" he asked. "After you run, of course."

"Yeah, of course," she said. "Will Christine be joining us?" Christine was Mark's current girlfriend. The two had known one another when Isabelle first met Mark and about six months later they began dating. Isabelle did not like her very much.

"Probably not," he answered. Isabelle smiled to herself in thankfulness. Isabelle told herself she was not jealous of Christine. She just did not like her personality and she was clearly not fond of Isabelle.Anyone in their right mind could see that. Yet again, most people would agree that Isabelle was indeed jealous of Christine. Even Sarah, who was Isabelle's best friend since junior high, said that Isabelle was jealous.

Isabelle shrugged the thought off her mind. She hated when she thought things like that. She was not in New York to find a boyfriend. She was here to learn. Love would just get in the way of her studies and be a distraction. But she longed for love.

* * *

Classes had gone by surprisingly quick for Isabelle. Before she knew it, she was exiting the campus and heading back into the city. She took a cab to a coffee shop where she could study for her exam tomorrow in silence. She never studied in libraries because food and drink were not allowed.

She found a small booth in the corner and she sat herself there with her bag. From her bag she removed the course book and her glasses. She opened to Chapter Twelve and began reading.

After about ten minutes of reading she heard a voice call her name.

"Isabelle?" the voice called. She looked up at hearing the familiar voice and found Marcus Dixon standing a few feet away from her near the entrance of the coffee shop. He wore a blue suit with a dark blue tie. She had always seen him in suits and rarely in regular wear.

"Uncle Dixon?" she said with a smile. He of course was not really her uncle but she had called him that since she was a child. He was though, her godfather. She placed her course book on the table and stood up.

Dixon wrapped his brawny arms around her in a hug and she too hugged him warmly. It felt good to see a familiar face. She had not seen him in a long time. The two released the hug and Isabelle looked at his friendly, bright smile.

"What are you doing here?" she asked as she returned to the booth with Dixon following. He sat himself across from her as he answered.

"My daughter is getting married here," he told her.

"Congratulations."

"How have you been?" he asked her.

"I've been alright," she told him.

"How's school going?"

"Not too bad," she answered.

"Would you like something to eat?" he asked. "I stopped here to have some pastries. They're excellent here."

"Oh, no thank you," she answered sincerely. "I'm fine."

"You look like a twig," he said to her. "You need some fat in you. I'll buy you something."

"Dixon, you don't need to."

"But I'm going to." He got up and walked to wait in line.

"Here, I have some money," Isabelle said reaching into her bag.

Dixon flicked his hand as if saying "Don't worry about it." She smiled and returned to her course book.

Just then she felt a presence sit across from her and she knew Dixon could not have bought the food that quick. She looked up and saw Julian Sark there, the man she had met on the train.

"Small world," he said as friendly as possible.

Isabelle smiled and hoped that her false joy was not obvious. "It is."

"Studying?" he asked her.

"Yes," she answered trying to make it look like she was very preoccupied as she turned back to her book. She then heard footsteps approaching quickly and she looked up and saw Dixon coming toward the table. His expression had changed completely and looked as though something was wrong. Julian turned to him.

"Don't you try and pull anything, Sark," Dixon warned. Isabelle became confused. She went from Dixon to Sark and did not understand Dixon's threat.

"Don't worry, old man," said Sark, his voice cool and sharp. "I won't." The way he released his words made it seem like he was teasing Dixon.

"You two know each other?" asked Isabelle who was becoming annoyed that she was out of the loop.

"Unfortunately," answered Dixon, who did not take his eyes off Sark. "What are you doing here?"

"Just making some chit chat," he answered calmly.

"Stay away from her," commanded Dixon.

"What are you going to do?" ask Sark. "Kill me in front of all these people?"

Dixon pushed open his suit coat and a 9mm gun was seen clearly. Sark stared at it for a while but not longer than Isabelle.

"Alright," Sark finally said. He stood up. "I'm going to leave and avoid any problems. It was nice speaking to you Isabelle." He exited the coffee shop quickly but he did not seem shaken by Dixon's weapon.

"Dixon," Isabelle managed to mutter. She was still in shock of seeing the gun. "What...Who was that?"

"Come with me," said Dixon who began heading toward the exit of the coffee shop. Isabelle through her course book in her bag and caught up with Dixon outside on the side walk. He continued walking to a car parked on the side of the sidewalk. Isabelle followed.

Dixon went to the driver's side door and unlocked it. He opened the door.

"Get in," he ordered to Isabelle. Isabelle opened the passenger door and stepped in the car. She shut the door and turned to Dixon who was already sitting.

"Dixon, what's going on?" Isabelle asked.

"Not yet," he said. He turned the key which was already in the ignition and the car quietly came to life. He squeezed himself out of the parking position and drove off. The drive lasted for almost a half hour. Dixon drove out of the city surprisingly quick and soon they were on a rode with no cars. He found a dirt road and went down it. There was forests on either side of the road. He eventually stopped the car and parked it.

There was silence now except for the singing of a few bird outside the car. Dixon kept his eyes at the road ahead even though the car had stopped. Isabelle could not take the suspense any longer.

"Dixon," she said quietly. "What's going on? Who was that?"

Dixon inhaled deeply. "That man back there was a man named Julian Sark," he told Isabelle, still keeping his eyes on the dirt road. "He is one of the criminals on the CIA's most wanted. I believe he is number seven."

Isabelle's eyes widen in shock and even though Sark was not near her at the moment she still felt fear.

"Is he trying to hurt me?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," Dixon answered. "Why did he sit next to you?"

"He met me on the train," explained Isabelle. "There were no other seats really around and he asked me if he could sit there. I let him." She realized that was a mistake.

"He probably did that intentionally," assumed Dixon. "He knew you before that."

"What? How?" She was completely confused as well as scared. Everything in her mind was racing. Multiple questions popped into her head.

"Isabelle if I tell you what I'm about to tell you, you must _never _repeat it," he told her. "Under no circumstances can you mention this again unless I tell you to. Do you understand." He finally turned to her and looked straight into her hazel eyes.

She nodded, more scared now.

"I work for the CIA," he told her. "Which is why I knew about Sark. I'm the head of a division there." He paused briefly and turned back to the road. "What I'm about to tell you is going to be hard to believe or even comprehend but you must know now. Your father also works for the CIA."

Isabelle could not believe what she just heard. Now her world was spinning. Her father? Her father worked for the CIA? It seemed unbelievable but it would explain so many secrets. It would explain his long trips and random exiting from their home.

"He worked for them before you were born but stopped after you were born." Dixon paused and briefly glanced at Isabelle who was now too staring out at the road ahead. "What do you know of your mother's death?"

She turned back to him in confusion. She managed to answer him with a quiet voice. "She was driving with my father back from a Christmas party. They skidded on black ice and hit a truck."

"She didn't die," said Dixon.

This time Isabelle managed to let out her shock. "What?"

"You mother worked for the CIA before you were born too. That's how your parents met. She stopped when you were born but several times her and your father went in on missions to help us. That Christmas night they were coming back from a mission. The car did crash into a truck but when medics got there, your mother's body was gone. They believed at first that she fell into a river but they never found her. That's when your father rejoined the CIA. He and many others believed that your mother was still alive and that the crash was intentional. Your father just wanted to join for a while and he thought he would find your mother quickly but years passed and we found nothing. He stayed with us and helped serve his country and he still is. We are still searching for your mother."

"I can't believe this," muttered Isabelle as she turned and gazed out her window. Everything seemed improbable but when she stopped and thought about all her parents sudden trips that would take almost two days it made seem believable. But she didn't want to believe it. Seeing her mother or father as a secret agent looked so strange to her and it scared her.

"I know," said Dixon. "Its going to be hard to grasp for a while."

Isabelle was a mess of emotions. Shock, anger, fear, they were endless. "Do you still think she's alive? Do they know if she is?"

"I shouldn't share this with you but a couple of years ago we received surveillance, a short clip, of your mother. She was walking down a street in Italy. As of now, we don't know where she is."

Dixon stopped talking to let Isabelle attempt to take in everything. She could not of course but he knew she needed time to herself. Unfortunately, that time would need to be cut short. He knew she was not safe.

"I don't mean to frighten you," he said, "but I think you are in danger. Sark was most likely following you and he knows your parents are. I'm going to fly you out to L.A. to your father."

"But what about classes? And I have plans tonight. I just can't..."

"Those things are not more important that your safety. We'll have the school send as much work as possible over or maybe we could enroll you in a different college there. At the moment I'm not the one to decide that. That's between you and your father. Tell no one you are going there for your safety. Afterwards, maybe you can."

"But my roommate, she needs a place to stay and the hotel, its under my name. And I have a test tomorrow. And I just can't cancel my dinner. I..."

"Isabelle, listen to me," demanded Dixon. "You might in danger. Do you understand that? You'll be able to fix everything after you talk with your father. We'll have to get your brother too. His life may be at risk."

She shivered to know that her brother, Jack, who was only in high school could be in danger.

"We'll leave tonight."

"But what about your daughter?"

"I'll make it back in time."

He started the car up and reversed down the road path until he reached the cemented street. Isabelle kept her face out of his gaze as she cried. All her life she had been told lies and now everything was a mess. She had gotten passed her lack of parental figures while growing up. She left behind her father and brother to live life on her own and now she was going back to it all but not for reasons that she wanted. If she ever went back to her family, which she had not planned on during this time, she wanted to go back happily but now she was being forced back into her lonely life. Her lonely life, that she had come to realize through Dixon, she knew so little about.

**Author's Note: **This will be my last update for quite sometime. I'm going away on vacation but I plan on updating right when I get back. Things will start picking up in the story and you're going to begin to see old characters that you all know and love. Until then, thanks for reading and reviews are greatly appreciated.


	4. From Sea To Shining Sea

**Chapter Four: From Sea to Shining Sea**

Dixon allowed Isabelle to call the hotel to change the reservation under Sarah Fulton. After about five minutes of begging, Dixon permitted Isabelle to call Sarah and Mark. She planned out what she was going to say before hand.

"Hello?" said Sarah's familiar voice through her cell phone.

"Hey, it's me," said Isabelle. "Listen some thing has come up. My brother got into an accident."

"Oh my gosh," she said with genuine worry. "Is he alright?"

"It's too early to tell," Isabelle answered. "I have to fly out there so I won't be at the hotel. I changed the reservation under your name so there should be no problem."

"Thank you," Sarah said. "Are you going to be alright?"

"Yeah," Isabelle said. "I'll be fine." She held back tears knowing that she might never see Sarah again. She hoped that would be the worst and least possible scenario. "I'll see you soon."

"Alright. Be safe."

Isabelle hung up and dialed Mark's number. After many rings a answering message picked up. Isabelle could not decide if that was better or worse. She spoke after the beep.

"Hey Mark, it's Isabelle. Um, my brother got into an accident and I'm flying out there to L.A. so I'm going to have to cancel our plans. I'm sorry, Mark. I'll make it up to you. I hope to see you soon. Okay, bye."

"Ready?" asked Dixon.

"Yeah. Does my Dad know I'm coming?"

"Yes, I called him."

She had remembered her last face to face talk with her Dad. As a child, she had been angry with him when he moved them to Los Angeles. She did not understand why they had to move there but now it made sense. So when she was leaving for college her joy could not be hidden and she noticed her Father was heartbroken and it pained her.

He did have the time to bring her to the airport the day she left. She had to take a cab there. The last time she saw him was at six in the morning. He came in and woke her up and told her that worked had asked him to go in early and that he would not see her before she left.

Isabelle had gotten furious then but managed to hide it. The scene played in her head as if it was a recorded scene from a movie.

There had been a long silence between them before he spoke.

"Be safe, okay?" he said to her. He was never good with words.

"I will, Dad," she said.

"There are a lot of dangerous people out there and it's a big city. You need to be careful of who you talk to and where you go."

"I know, Dad," she said becoming annoyed. She was too stubborn and angry to realize how important his warnings were but she believed she was so grown up she could take care of herself.

"I know I say that same thing to you all the time since you decided to head to New York but I...I just don't want my daughter getting hurt." She could tell that he was holding back tears. It was an awkward moment but it did not bother her. It helped her to know that he cared. She reached in a hugged him. At the moment she realized how much it must have hurt him when her mother had "died". Isabelle realized she never gave him sympathy and saw it through his point of view. He was crushed when his wife left and she tried to imagine how much he would be crushed if she died.

She came back to the present and realized she was crying as Dixon was heading for the door. She followed him out of the motel room which smelled like disgusting cheese. They returned the key to the lady at the front desk who eyed them suspiciously. Isabelle did not blame her. They had only been there for a hour at most.

They reached the car and began heading to the airport. The sun was beginning to set now. Isabelle looked at the sky and saw bright colors of pink. She had always been told that that was sign of a good day tomorrow. She did not believe it at this point.

Isabelle was still crying as the car made its way on a highway. She watched them pass multiple cars and Isabelle stared and wondered how the drivers' lives were like. Where were they heading? Her thoughts escaped her mind when Dixon spoke.

"We're being followed," he said.

Isabelle looked behind and saw a small black car with dark tinted windows following.

"Is it Sark?" she asked.

"Most likely," said Dixon. "They probably tapped into Sarah's phone and heard your conversation. Or maybe even Mark's phone which is why I didn't want you to call."

"I'm sorry, Dixon," she said sincerely.

Dixon could not be mad at her. "Don't worry about it. We might be a little late for our flight."

"So we're going to miss the plane?" she asked.

"No the plane's waiting for us to arrive. It'll just be us on it." He took out a cell phone and dialed a number. He then spoke into it. "We've got somebody on our tail so we're going to be a bit off schedule. Have the plane ready." He hung up and sharply took the next exit. Isabelle braced herself a bit late but after grabbing hold of the bottom of the seat she turned around and saw that the car had followed them.

"Are they going to shoot at us?" asked Isabelle.

"Not here," said Dixon. "Unless they get desperate. We're just going to have to lose them somehow." He crossed into the highway and sped up switching lanes frequently and passing cars. Some of which beeped angrily. Isabelle turned around and saw the black car still following as her heart began racing. She never enjoyed driving fast on the highway with the number of accidents she heard of.

"How are we going to get rid of them?" she asked but Dixon did not answer. He continued speeding down the highway in the right lane. The black car was right behind them. Dixon took a sharp turn into the middle lane in front of a SUV and behind a large truck, giving the black car no room to pass over into the right lane. He then quickly began approaching a large truck. Suddenly, Dixon switched into the left lane and got up against the truck, which was still in the middle lane. Isabelle could see the black car still stuck in the right lane as their car disappeared behind the truck.

An exit was quickly approaching and Dixon took in. They eventually got off the exit and back on the rode with the black car nowhere in sight.

"We lost them," announced Isabelle, sighing.

Isabelle stared out the window of the airplane which was flying over the Appalachian Mountains. It was a small airplane but quite comfortable. She was sitting alone in two person seat with two other seats across from her emptied. Dixon was talking on his phone a couple of seats away to his son, telling him that he had an emergency but he would make it back for the wedding. He told him not to tell his daughter.

After he hung up, he came over and sat across from Isabelle who turned. She managed to smile at him but he could see her discomfort.

"It'll be alright," he assured her. "I'm not sure what you're feeling right now. Anger, confusion but trust me, your parents had to keep this from you. It pained them to have to leave you and Jack for days and they hated it."

"I know," Isabelle said. "They'd always come back a bit low."

"I know it's a lot to take in," he said. "I'm sorry that I threw it all upon you."

"No, don't be. I'm glad you told me."

Dixon grinned. "Your father didn't seem to happy that I did. But he knows it was the right thing to do. He has Jack at the office, safe. How do you think he'll take it?"

"I'm not sure," she said. She had spoke with Jack through emails once she had moved away. The two had always been close and kept one another company due to their lack of parental advisory. They rarely fought but when they did it got brutal. Isabelle loved him and did not want to leave him alone in L.A. After he graduated she hoped that he could fly out and see her. She unfortunately had no money and she did not want to get it from her father. She needed the feeling of independency. Her and Jack were four years apart. She was currently twenty one and he was seventeen and a junior in high school. "How much longer will the flight take?"

"A little over an hour. You might want to get some rest."

She took his advice and grabbed a pillow and rested her head on it. She reclined the seat and made herself as comfortable as possible. Dixon grabbed a blanket for her and placed it over her. She thanked him with a grin and closed her eyes.

Isabelle was awake before the plane landed. Her sleep lasted for a short while. It was terribly uncomfortable to sleep in a seat. The plane landed on a runway of a small airport that she had never heard about. She supposed it was owned by the CIA for there personal flights.

She exited the plane with one bag of luggage which she managed to place clothes and her school necessities in. She had always packed light. Dixon lead her into the airport where she and her bags were checked. The airport was nearly empty except for the couple of guards standing around with weapons in their hands.

Dixon lead Isabelle through the airport and out into the parking lot where a dark car was waiting. Dixon opened the passenger door for her and she stepped in. He then went into the back seat and shut the door.

A young man sat in the driver's seat. He wore dark sunglasses which completely covered his eyes. He also wore a white buttoned up shirt with a tie. He seemed to be missing the sport's coat. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. The white shirt was tight in some places of his upper body showing that he was well built and muscular. He looked young, possibly a little older than Isabelle. His hair was a light brown, slightly dirty blonde and cut incredibly short. It was styled so his bangs were up messily. He was clean shaven and well groomed from what she could see.

"Isabelle this is Agent Cage," said Dixon. Agent Cage turned to her and nodded with a small handsome smile. She returned the gesture. He pressed on the pedal and the car accelerated out of the nearly empty parking to a front gate where several guards stood. They recognized the car and the driver and opened up the gate that brought the car to the highway.

"How far is it from here?" asked Isabelle.

"Five minutes," answered Dixon.

It took almost exactly five minutes. The car approached a building that had high walls surrounding it. They came to a cement wall. Cage rolled down his window and removed a card from his pocket which he slid into a slot that was attached to a metal rectangular box attached into the ground. The cement wall opened for them and Isabelle saw that they were in a parking lot. After passing into the parking lot which had a number of lights, the cement wall shut behind them.

The car was parked not shortly after and they all exited from the car. After all the doors had been shut, Cage locked the car and Isabelle followed the two men to two large doors. Cage slipped the same card into another slot near the doors and they opened up. The group walked in and the doors shut behind them.

Isabelle was now in a long hall, brightly lit. At the end of the hall she could see a woman sitting at a desk. She looked up when they entered. She nodded to Dixon and Cage with a smile and gave a Isabelle a welcoming but confused smile. Dixon walked forward and Isabelle followed with Cage behind her.

Dixon continued down the hall and Isabelle saw that there was glass doors to her right and left. Through the glass doors she saw several desks where people were sitting, most on a computer. The walls were white and the lights shined as brightly as the hallway she was in. Dixon took a right and opened the glass door, holding it for Isabelle and Cage.

Isabelle walked through and heard the sounds of a keyboard. People were walking around, some with folders. She noticed some had spotted her and looked up. They whispered to people sitting close by. Dixon smiled at a couple as he took Sydney to a set of stairs. He walked up them and she followed. Isabelle noticed that Cage was no longer following them.

They approached a glass room. Inside was a long oval shaped table with many seats and a built in computer at each seat. There was also a large screen in one of the walls. The room had shades which were vertically open.

Inside, Isabelle saw her father and brother. Her father was standing while her brother sat, both on opposite sides of one another. Her father's hair was beginning to gray with its natural brown. He was still pretty fit but not nearly as fit as when he was younger. Even though he was quite old he seemed as though he kept his endurance.

Isabelle's brother Jack, which was their grandfather's name, look similar to his father. They shared the same nose and jaw line. His eyes were from his mother, though. His hair was brown and a bit shorter than Isabelle remembered.

The two saw her before Dixon opened the door. Isabelle walked in and Jack stood up and went over and hugged her.

"Did he tell you?" she asked quietly.

"Everything," Jack answered.

"About Mom?" asked Isabelle.

"Yeah." The two released their hug and she turned to her father. Her father had been close with her as a child but as she grew he showed less affection for her. Now that she thought of it, he lost a lot of affection for her when their mother left. He lost affection for both of his children and now Isabelle was not so angry at him for it. She knew she had a lot of apologizing to do to him. She only knew half of the stress he must have encountered and she felt rude for being a brat growing up. She blamed her attitude on the fact that she lacked a maternal figure.

Isabelle's Dad grinned. "Hey," he said, not sure if he should hug her or keep away.

"Hi, Dad," said Isabelle.

"You can, um, sit down," suggested her father. "If you'd like." Isabelle did so and Jack sat next to her.

"Would you like me to leave, Vaughn?" asked Dixon to Isabelle's father.

"Um, yes, thank you," he answered. Dixon obeyed and left the room.

The silence between the three was painful and awkward. Nobody was really sure of what to say.

"Would either of you like to ask me any questions?" he asked.

"Could you just start from the beginning. Everything was just thrown together," said Isabelle. "My head is spinning."

"I won't got into much depth. I met your mother through the CIA. I was her handler. I gave her her counter missions. She worked as a double agent with your grandfather."

"Grandpa worked for the CIA, too?" asked Jack.

"The whole Bristow family basically did. Your grandmother was involved greatly with the CIA.

"We got engaged and Sydney-Mom found out she was pregnant. After she had Isabelle we stopped working for the CIA, briefly. The constantly asked us for our help and we went in on a couple of missions here and there. That Christmas night when you were told Mom had died, we were coming home from a mission when a truck collided with our car. I was knocked out and when I awoke she was gone as well as the driver of the truck. For the last several years I've been searching for her. I've never found her. I've come close but I haven't."

"Why would she runaway?" asked Isabelle. "Why would she just leave us?"

"I don't know," answered Vaughn. "I feel that she did this to protect us somehow. Others disagree."

"Why?" asked Jack. "Why do they think she left?"

Their father inhaled showing that he clearly did not like the others' assumption. "They think she had betrayed her country. They think she's a criminal now."

"Why would they think that?" asked Isabelle.

"Because your grandmother did that as well. It's a long complicated story that I'll tell you both eventually but they think she's doing what your mother basically did."

"I want to know what grandma did," demanded Jack.

"You grandmother married your grandfather because it was her mission she received from the KGB, a Russian agency. She used your father's love to spy on what the CIA was doing and she'd send Intel back to her agency. She got pregnant and had Sydney which was an accident, as I was told."

"So Mom was never suppose to be born?" asked Isabelle.

"No she wasn't."

"How did grandma die?" asked Jack.

"She fell." He decided to leave it at that.

"And grandpa?"

"He was shot by Arvin Sloane."

"Who's Arvin Sloane?" asked Isabelle.

"Someone who I hope you never have to meet."

"Is Uncle Will involved in the CIA too?" asked Jack.

"Well he was put under the witness protection program through the CIA and he did go on some missions with Sydney but he never officially worked for them."

"And Aunt Rachel?" asked Isabelle. Both Isabelle and Jack decided that most likely anyone who wasn't directly related to them who they called "Aunt" or "Uncle" was probably involved in this world of espionage somehow.

"She's currently on a mission."

"I can't believe this..." muttered Isabelle.

"Does Uncle Jason know?" asked Jack. Uncle Jason was Aunt Rachel's husband.

"He doesn't."

"Is Uncle Eric a spy, too?" asked Jack speaking of Eric Weiss.

"He worked for the CIA for a while but as you know he works for the President still."

"Who else in our family? You might as well just tell us everyone else," said Isabelle who was beginning to become frustrated. Her entire family seemed to be a spy and it was kept from her for years. She was never fond of secrets.

"Well my father was. And your Aunt Nadia who you never met was also an agent."

"Did she really die of a hear attack?" asked Jack.

"No. Arvin Sloane killed her," answered Vaughn. "He was her father."

"Wait," said Isabelle. "Aunt Nadia's _father_ killed her?"

Vaughn slightly nodded.

Isabelle shook her head in disbelief. "And I thought our family was screwed up already. It just gets worse."

"I don't want to hear that from you," reprimanded Vaughn but she could tell he felt uncomfortable commanding her. "Look, the man who approached you Isabelle, Sark, this was not coincidental. He knows you are my daughter and there is a reason he approached you. I don't feel that either of you are safe so I think you'll have to stay here and come home with me when my work here is over."

"What about school?" asked Isabelle.

"Yeah I still have finals," said Jack. "And I have yet to be a senior."

"I'll have you home schooled, Jack," explained Vaughn. "Isabelle we're going to have to pull you out of college. You'll eventually be able to go back in, possibly here rather than there. I don't want you far."

"Dad, I'm sorry, but I have a life back in New York. I just can't leave that," Isabelle said. "I have friends and I'm comfortable there. I want to be there. I don't want to stay here."

"Isabelle you don't seem to understand the danger your life could be in right now," said Vaughn. "Julian Sark is a dangerous man and I know for a fact he does not work alone. Someone is after you and quite possibly Jack as well. You need to stay here."

"Dad, Sarah is back there," said Isabelle. "She barely has enough money to stay in a motel for a night. I just can't leave her out there."

"I'll send her money," said Vaughn.

"No, Dad," said Isabelle. "I'm going back." She stood up and headed for the door as if she was going to walk back to New York.

"You're just as stubborn as your mother," he said. Isabelle stopped. In reality, she was glad her father had said something but she had no idea where to go next after she exited the office. "But if she was here she would want you to be safe."

"How would you know?" asked Isabelle rudely.

"Because I married her. I won't let you fly back to New York. Once I know and believe you are safe you can move out and find your own apartment whatever you'd like but you will not leave L.A. to go back there." Isabelle could tell he cared. She knew he did. He just could not say it directly.

"Dad," she said, understanding his point of view and actions. But he needed to see things through her eyes. "I can't leave that all behind. I know it may seem like I have little to nothing there but I just can't... It's hard. And Sarah..."

"What is Sarah going to school for?" asked Vaughn.

"Teaching. English," answered Isabelle.

"The best I can do is fly her out here. We can transfer her to a different college here in L.A. It's her choice though. If she doesn't want to then you have to leave her."

Isabelle smiled. "I'll try and talk to her." She knew it was a longshot but she could try. There was still Mark but she knew she could not do anything about that.

"Dad," said Jack. "I don't want to. I mean, I have friends too. And by the way you're saying it, it seems like I'll never see them again."

"Jack, you'll see them just not for a while," said Vaughn. "I'll try and make this process as quick as possible but I'm afraid it's going to be a while. We'll try and track down Sark and we'll try and find out his interest in you and hopefully we can fix it. But it's much easier said than done. You two need to do this for me. I've lost your mother, I can't bear to lose either of you."

Vaughn stood in his office alone at his desk with his head in his hands. Isabelle and Jack were in another empty guest office not far from where he was. This whole thing was a mess to him. He never wanted this to happen. He blamed himself for going back into the CIA. And now his children were in danger.

He had sent a report to Langley of the problem that had risen. He knew Langley's suggestion would be the Witness Protection Program but he could never do that to his children. He couldn't lose them. He would have no one left.

A tapping came from his door. He looked up and saw Dixon standing there. Vaughn waved him to come in. Dixon opened the door and then shut it behind him.

"Yes Dixon?" said Vaughn.

"Vaughn, we've worked for the CIA for countless years. And you know what Langley will suggest to do to your children if they believe that they're not safe," began Dixon. "I know you don't want to lose them and you shouldn't have to. I think I have another solution."

"What is it Dixon?" asked Vaughn.

"Sydney said to me once that she saw both Isabelle and Jack complete that puzzle she was required to do as a child when she was trained under Project Christmas. She told me that she thought Project Christmas was hereditary. She believed she passed down her talents to her children some how. Therefore I think we should recruit your children into the CIA."

"No," was Vaughn's quick answer. "I will not have my children be dragged into this horrible life. Sydney and I promised each other that we would never allow our children into this line of work."

"But what if it helps them," said Dixon.

"How will it do that?"

"It will protect them, don't you see? They'll be protected from criminals. If Sydney really did pass down her talents and pre-knowledge then your children being in this line of work seems almost inevitable."

Vaughn knew Dixon was right. He rubbed his fingers on his temples and then rested his chin on his knuckles after interlocking his fingers.

"I know you don't want them to get hurt, Vaughn. But there's not easy way out of this. We've been trying to get a hold on Sark for years and years and we never really managed to. What makes you think we will now? I think bringing them into this line of work will be the best solution for them. And Vaughn, I'm not trying to invade into your family but if won't suggest it, I will. I'm still head of this division and I care about both of them."

Vaughn closed his eyes and thought deeply about his children. He remembered the promise he made with Sydney. But would she break the promise if she was in the same position? Vaughn knew his kids wanted the quickest way of getting back to their normal lives but he was not sure if they wanted their normal lives to include the CIA. What would Sydney do?


	5. Last Resorts and Final Solutions

**Chapter Five: Last Resorts and Final Solutions**

Isabelle and Jack entered their Father's office along with Dixon. Dixon shut the door behind them and shut the blinds for more privacy. Isabelle and Jack stood motionless as Dixon finished shutting the blinds.

"You can sit down, if you'd like," suggested Vaughn. His children took the two seats in front of his desk. Dixon went around and stood next to Vaughn. Isabelle could tell Vaughn had something on his mind. He was quiet for a while. She could also tell that Dixon was waiting as patiently as possible.

"You both want to get back to your normal lives as soon as possible, right?" asked Vaughn. His children nodded. "There is a way we can do it but it's a last resort." There was pause.

"Well, what is it?" asked Jack.

"We could recruit you both into the CIA," announced Vaughn.

The words seemed like a line from a dream. Isabelle could not believe that could be a solution to all of this.

"No," answered Isabelle. "No, that's ridiculous. I've heard enough of our family being murdered to know that this idea is terrible."

"Isabelle," said Dixon, "You have to understand, we've been after Julian Sark for years and we have failed to get him. We don't know how long you'll have to be here day in and day out. We don't want you to go through with that."

"I don't care! I will not join this...nightmare," she yelled.

"Do you want to know are other solution?" asked Dixon. "The solution Langley has reported back with, would you like to know their suggestion? They'll suggest putting both of you into Witness Protection. You'll probably will never see your father, your friends, anybody you know now. Would you like that, Isabelle? To lose everything, to leave everything behind." His voice was stern and it scared her. Silence filled the room and Isabelle turned away from Dixon and her Father's gaze. She felt tears were coming on.

"I'll do it," announced Jack quite suddenly.

"Jack!" exclaimed Isabelle.

"He's right, Isabelle," said Jack. "I don't want to lose everything. I don't want to change my name and be some one I'm not. It's not right. I won't let it happen. Please Isabelle you have to do this. I don't want to lose you."

Isabelle contemplated it all in her head. She did not want to agree to it after hearing all that had happened with her family. She valued her life but she also valued her friends.

"We have sent the suggestion over to Langley," said Dixon. "They said its either that or Witness Protection.I understand that you are scared but I believe, as well as your Father, that this is the best solution."

Isabelle sighed. "If it's the best solution then I'll agree to it."

Isabelle and Jack continued to live with their father and come to work with him. They both endured rough training. Jack continued to be home schooled in between training and Isabelle was transferred from her college in New York to one in L.A. which she was going to attend once her training was done.

Sarah agreed to transfer out to L.A. With some help from Vaughn, she was able to buy a small house on campus. Isabelle was to move in once she finished her training. She had to keep her job a secret from everyone she knew. She told Sarah that she got a job working at her Father's company and that once she was promoted she would move in. Mark was left behind in New York. Isabelle tried to continue to keep in touch with him but it became harder as her training worsened. She missed him a lot.

Both Isabelle and Jack were trained by a man named Christopher Silverman. He was in his forties and incredibly brawny and intimidating. He was a rough teacher and there were days when Isabelle and Jack hated him but he taught them well.

Isabelle saw the same people day in and day out but the only names she knew were her Father's, Dixon, Christopher, and Agent Cage who nodded to her every morning but never talked with her. She discovered his eyes were hazel colored. She also occasionally saw Rachel Gibson who she hugged warmly when she first saw her. She always liked her and called her "Aunt Rachel" even though, once again, she was not really her aunt but her godmother. Everyone else was just a familiar face without a name. They unfortunately they knew her's.

It was exactly five years the day Isabelle and Jack decided they'd join the CIA when their training had ended. It was bitter sweet and they had both grown up. Isabelle was now twenty four and Jack was twenty and he had managed to graduate from high school during the process of learning martial arts, which they actually knew a bit of due to the fact that their parents both signed them up for karate at young ages, how to fire a gun accurately, and how to hack computers to say the least. Everything was complicated but they somehow managed to get through it.

Isabelle had already moved in with Sarah by this time and had been doing paperwork for the CIA for about a year along with her training. She learned new names that she could never put to faces. Her fear had diminished slightly but she knew that eventually she would be on a mission. She could have chosen not to be but Christopher Silverman had discovered that both Jack and her had a unique talent and that both were naturals, something they're mother must have passed down. They would be needed in the field. She did not like the sound of it. Jack seemed a bit thrilled by the fact.

After about two weeks of paperwork following the end of their training, Jack and Isabelle were called to their first mission briefing. Isabelle's heart pounded.

Isabelle entered the briefing room. She shut the door behind her and saw that some of the seats were taken up. Isabelle recognized all of them except one. Her Father was sitting near the top of the table next to Dixon who was standing in front of the large screen. Next to her Father was Rachel who greeted the two with a smile. Diagonally across from Rachel was Eric Cage who had not changed much through the years. A seat down from Eric was an older man who Isabelle had seem numerous times at the agency.

"You may sit down," said Dixon with a smile.

Jack sat down across from his Father and Isabelle sat next to Jack making her across fromRachel and next to Agent Cage. She felt incredibly out of place and she wondered how Jack felt.

"Welcome Isabelle and Jack to your first briefing," said Dixon. "If you have any questions, comments, or concerns please speak up. Do you both know everyone here?"

"I don't," said Isabelle.

"You remember Agent Eric Cage?" asked Dixon.

Isabelle turned to the man on her right. He greeted her with a smile.

"Yes I do," said Isabelle with a smile.

"The man a couple of seats down from you is Nicholas O'Connell," said Dixon. Isabelle turned and looked at the older man she did not know

"Hello," greeted Jack to Agent O'Connell.

"Please to meet you," said Isabelle.

"Likewise," said Agent O'Connell. He had to be about forty. His eyes were a dark mahogany color. His face made him look older than he was but the rest of his body showed his age. Isabelle could not tell his hair color for it was almost completely shave off. She thought it may have been brown. He had a large receding hair line which was slightly visible.

The door of the briefing room burst open and in walked a short man with a Charlie Brown tie. He seemed a little older than Isabelle. He wore square glasses that sat on his large nose. His chin was jutting and distracting some what. He carried a case.

"Sorry I'm late," said the man who was incredibly nervous. "My father was on the phone and he just..."

"This is Mitchell Flinkman," interjected Dixon. "Take a seat Mitch."

Mitchell took a seat next to Rachel and placed his case on the table next to him. He nodded at Isabelle and Jack. Isabelle could not help but smile. Dixon grunted a cough but Isabelle could not tell if it was real or if he wanted the attention of the group.

"Langley had decided that our best interest is find Julian Sark. We haven't spotted him for almost a year now and there is a reason he is coming out of hiding," Dixon began. "We received Intel that states he will be meeting a Jorge Haas in Madrid at his club." Dixon pressed a button on a remote he had in his hands. A picture came on the screen and everyone's computer screen of a man. He was old and rugged and it was clear that this was Jorge Haas. "Sark will be trading a large amount of money for a computer chip that Mr. Haas has. You objectives are to apprehend Sark and retrieve the computer chip. Isabelle and Agent Cage you will be getting the chip. Jack and Agent O'Connell you will be capturing Sark. Vaughn and Rachel, you'll be on coms on location. Mitchell." Dixon turned his attention to Mitchell who stood up.

"Alright, well," he began. "You all won't have many gadgets for this mission. Jack and Mr. O'Connell you will have this." He opened his case and pulled out a gray cylinder that looked like a pen. "If you click the top of the pen," he said and he did so. A needle came out of the other end. "A needle sticks out. Stick this in Sark and he'll be out for five hours at least." He handed the pen to Jack. "Now for you Ms. Vaughn," he said. Isabelle turned to him. "You will have his compact." He took out a navy blue compact. He opened it up and she saw that there was many wires and buttons inside. "Once you get the chip I want you to place it in this indent in the compact, it should fit, and press this green button here. It'll beep five times and before it gets to the fifth beep, you must close the compact. Wait thirty seconds and you'll hear a faint beep come from the compact. You can remove the chip and slip it back to Mr. Haas. During those thirty seconds," Mitchell turned to Vaughn and Rachel "The data from the chip should be sent to your computer. Make sure it reaches one hundred percent." Vaughn and Rachel nodded. Mitchell turned to Agent Cage. "You, will wear these shades," he said as he pulled out a pair of sunglasses. It's shades were almost completely transparent. "These will allow you to see where the chip is incase it's inside something, which it most likely will be."

"Everyone come back safe," closed out Dixon as people began standing up and leaving the briefing room. Isabelle's heart was pounding. She exited the room, walked down the stairs and to her desk. She sat down and ran a nervous hand through her hair. Her father approached her.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she answered. "Why?"

"You look pale," he told her.

"I'm fine," she lied.

"If you don't want to do this, that's okay," he said.

She contemplated backing out but she knew she could not. She was not a coward and she had a strange feeling of excitement along with her fear. It was undescribable and she could not remember a time where she felt this way before but it pushed her into taking this mission. "No, I want to do this."


End file.
